Flawed Coping Mechanisms
by Anna Fugazzi
Summary: (STANDALONE) Sometimes a bed can get kinda crowded, even when there's only two people in it. Outtake from Even When I Had Nothing, but you don't have to read EWIHN to understand it. It does mildly spoil EWIHN slightly.


_Brian! Go to CNN_ said the text from Josh, and Brian rolled his eyes. His boyfriend was just in the other room, for God's sake. And he knew that Brian had a major deadline looming and probably wasn't going to raise his head from coding for the next 48 hours. He opened a tab anyway and raised his eyebrows at the large shot of Captain America in the middle of the screen, a helmet under his arm, hair slightly ruffled, Black Widow next to him. Brian felt his heart skip a beat, and clicked on the picture.

"I'm gay," he was saying to a redheaded reporter, looking impatient. "I'm also a little busy. Was there something else you wanted to ask about?"

Holy _shit_. Captain America had come out.

Damn. Whatever he'd imagined this moment would look like, back when they'd met... Brian had _never_ imagined this.

* * *

Brian sighed as he looked over the crowd. What had possessed him to come here on a Thursday? The pickings were incredibly slim. He had a tough enough time finding anybody on a regular weekend on the rare occasions when he did this; as his friend Luke always said, Brian needed all the help he could get.

Although maybe the slim pickings meant Brian wouldn't be competing with the younger guys. And maybe people were more desperate on weeknights. It wasn't like he'd made a statistical study of this stuff; he only went out about two or three times a year anyway.

Desperate, yeah. And with low standards. He could use that. He sighed again and glanced around the room.

The hunky blond kid dancing with the muscle-bound Asian over there didn't look too desperate. Of course; why would he? Shoulders like that, ass like that, looking like a tall, cool drink of water? He could have his pick anywhere he went.

Brian's eyes raked over the perfect form as his dance partner pulled him closer. Brian chuckled. The Asian guy - looked a bit like Glen from the Walking Dead, actually, if Glen had an earring and a rack of solid abs - wasn't going to get any tonight, Brian thought. Yummy Shoulders was being polite to him, but was not looking exactly thrilled.

The kid didn't seem all that into dancing, either. Graceful and able to follow the beat, but not really into the kind of grinding and shameless posing and preening that most guys who looked like him were into.

Walking Glen was into it. Grabbing the blond kid's ass now, and practically climbing him like a tree. Luke would be laughing his ass off at the spectacle if he was here.

Brian looked away. Yummy Shoulders was drop-dead gorgeous, but way out of his league, not to mention he looked barely legal. He scanned the other men at the bar.

Nope. No prospects. Maybe this would be yet another time he'd go home empty-handed. Fair enough; he had a meeting tomorrow morning anyway.

He ordered another beer, resigning himself to disappointment, and tried to just enjoy the atmosphere. So he probably wouldn't go home with anyone tonight. At least he wasn't at home, working late into the night and feeling like a loser.

Suddenly Shoulders was on the bar stool next to him, minus Walking Glen. Brian automatically gave the kid a small smile and was startled to find it returned.

Well. Didn't that just make his day, he thought as he turned away. Mid-forties, hair starting to go grey and nothing to write home about, and the hunkiest guy in the room had smiled at him. He glanced over the crowd again, trying to find prospects. Maybe the slightly pudgy guy in the business shirt? Looked like an office worker. He might just be here for the atmosphere, but maybe...

He started as a pleasant voice spoke into his ear. "Buy you a beer?"

It was Shoulders. Brian looked behind him, then around, then came to the startling realization that he was being addressed. By Shoulders. He blinked.

"Me?"

The kid frowned, puzzled. "Yeah?"

"You... you want to buy me a beer?"

"Yeah?" Shoulders blinked. "Sorry - are you here with someone?"

"No! No, no I'm here by myself. I uh - sure. Yes, sure. Thanks. For, for the beer." Oh Jesus he was babbling; Luke would be laughing his ass off if he could hear him. The kid didn't look too put off by it, as he signaled to the bartender and gave Brian a smile. And he was, holy hell, he was even more gorgeous close-up, how was that even possible? Looked a little older than he had on the dance floor - Brian would've sworn he was barely drinking age out there, but there was something more mature about him close-up. Something vaguely familiar about him, too.

Their beers arrived and they drank companionably, though Brian was so nervous and caught off-guard he found himself almost gulping it down.

"You been here before?" the kid asked him.

"Not often," said Brian. "I mean, a few times a year. You?"

"Never been to this bar before," he said, glancing around.

"So I haven't seen you here before?"

"No. Haven't been in New York for a while, actually."

"Oh," said Brian, puzzled. "That's weird. I thought maybe I'd seen you at the gym or something." Not that he went more than every couple of months, depressed as it made him to see the beefcakes and hunks when his own physique was relentlessly computer-nerd slim. "You look familiar..." he tilted his head to the side, trying to figure out where he'd seen him.

The kid gave him a small smile. "Yeah well I'm told I look like Johnny Storm," he said. "I don't see it, myself, and I can't fly, but that's probably who I remind you of."

Brian nodded, the vague itch of recognition satisfied. "Yeah... yeah, that's probably it." Johnny Storm from the Fantastic Four - if Storm didn't shave for a couple of days, and stopped radiating Hetero on the Prowl in every smugly grinning publicity still. "No relation?"

"None, as far as I know."

Brian cast around for something to say. Shoulders had probably just been polite when he asked Brian if he wanted a beer. He'd be off in a minute, probably. But then again, he wasn't moving away. And he'd asked if Brian was there with someone.

What the hell. "So, uh... do you wanna dance?" asked Brian, and the kid's eyes widened a little.

"Oh. Oh, um... sure." The kid looked a little uncertain, then resigned. "Sure."

"What's wrong?" asked Brian, his heart sinking slightly. No, it was fine. Shoulders had just been humoring an old man, no need to get huffy about it...

Shoulders shook his head, then hesitated, then said, "Sorry, I didn't assume you'd want to."

"Why not? Isn't that what people are here for?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"You don't like dancing?"

The kid shrugged. "It's not really my thing. The... the music's not my type. And I've never really learned to dance."

"Seemed to be doing fine earlier." Shoulders ducked his head and Brian chuckled. "What do you mean you never learned?"

"I used to say I was waiting for the right partner," he said, and suddenly sounded a lot more bitter than a guy at a bar trying to get laid had any right to sound - especially one who could probably have his pick of whoever the hell he wanted.

"We don't have to," said Brian.

"I thought you wanted to."

"Actually, I really don't. I suck at dancing."

They stared at each other for a moment, and then the kid started laughing and Brian joined in.

"I'm Brian," Brian offered.

"Steve," said the kid, and they clinked beer bottles.

And it was surprisingly easy to talk to him after that. He still felt weird about it - after all, what the hell was this gorgeous guy doing drinking with a guy like Brian; was Brian some kind of charity case or something? - but the kid was easy to talk to. Not full of himself, not preening or posing at all. Almost... shy.

Almost... attainable.

Of course, he'd probably be lousy in bed; most young, good-looking guys were. They tended to be all about racing for the dick and the big O and then skipping off right after, with little or no interest in pleasing a partner, but what the hell. Better than Brian's own right hand, right?

"So what do you do?" asked Brian after they'd exhausted the topics of the bar, beer, and music.

"I work in security. You?"

"Communications software engineer," said Brian, abruptly wishing he'd gone into video game design. The hours were brutal but... young guys liked video games, right? "So, security?" he asked, deflecting before they could get into just what a giant nerd he was. "Like, security guard kind of thing? Bouncer?"

The kid - Steve, right? - gave him a small smile. "Something like that. Actually technically right now I'm between jobs."

Brian blinked. Between jobs? As in, looking for a sugar daddy, or - oh shit, was the kid a hooker? Damn, maybe Brian wasn't giving off 'charity case' vibes but 'desperate enough to pay' vibes...

"I've got a few possibilities," Steve went on. "Not sure which one I'll take up. A buddy of mine says I could maybe go into counseling at the VA. Can't see myself doing that, but it makes him happy and they do good work, so who knows."

"The VA? You were in the service?"

"Yeah."

Ah. Probably not a hooker, then. Brian relaxed slightly.

"Really. Where?"

"Mostly Europe. France, Germany, Italy."

Not combat, then. Why a guy who'd only served secure posts might think he could help combat veterans was a little beyond Brian, but good for the kid, for thinking of helping others.

They chatted for a few more minutes, and Brian was starting to feel both more sure of where this was going and more puzzled. It was getting kind of annoying, actually - and he really wished Luke was here to tell him to just go with it and not look a gift horse in the mouth, and stop being such a dweeb.

But Luke wasn't here. Luke had better places to be now. And without his friend, Brian was getting more and more uncertain and off-balance and - and then he suddenly had enough of the weirdness. This would probably shoot down whatever chance he had to score tonight, but Brian had never been much of a player and always too curious for his own good.

"Why me?" he blurted. The kid's eyebrows went up. "I mean... look at you." He made a vague gesture. "You could have anybody in here."

The kid stared at him for a moment before turning away slightly. "I didn't always look like this," he muttered, blushing, and Brian commended him for at least not downplaying his looks. He looked down into his beer. "I dunno, you just looked... lonely, I guess. Out of place here." Brian drew in his breath, preparing to stand up and tell this kid just where he could shove his pity-fuck - but the kid was still looking into his beer. "And I am too. Figured we could be out of place together."

Brian frowned, off-balance. Uh. OK. That was... weird.

"You... don't do this a lot?" he asked cautiously.

The kid quickly shook his head, then stopped and bit his lip. "Uh... I guess I do, now," he muttered, and the bitter tone was back. "Didn't used to."

"No?" Brian gave a short laugh. "What, did you just start working out?"

The corner of the kid's mouth quirked up slightly. "Something like that, yeah."

"And before that you didn't think you'd be able to score?"

"No, I... I had a.. a boyfriend. We didn't, uh, go out much."

Brian sat back and considered him. Huh. _That_ he'd not been expecting. So the kid - damn it, it was either Stuart or Steven or... something, he'd forgotten the name, he'd been so discombobulated and he was awful with names anyway - was new to the scene. Young enough that maybe he'd had a few girlfriends in high school, discovered he was gay in college, fallen for some guy - maybe the first guy he'd dated - and then it had ended. Maybe he'd gotten into body building after the breakup. And was now taking the new bod out for test drives, still not too sure how to steer.

Brian didn't feel quite so off-balance any more. The kid wasn't playing him, wasn't out to do a charity lay for the pathetic middle-age nerds of his community - or worse, looking for cash, though Brian had to admit that if he was, this was a pretty good scam - he just wanted to get laid. And hadn't yet gotten used to the idea that with his looks, he could be as selective as he wanted to be.

And he was damned easy on the eyes. No matter what happened tonight, he'd be texting Luke about this guy tomorrow. Not that Luke seemed to care as much about Brian's exploits since he'd gotten domesticated.

"Well, I'm... I'm glad you came out tonight," said Brian awkwardly, and downed the last of his beer. "You want another?" He waited for a nod back before signaling for two more from the bartender, and decided he felt bold enough to make his move. As the bartender put down the two bottles, Brian shifted closer to the kid and put a hand on the kid's thigh. The kid gave him a shy smile, and his eyes dropped to Brian's lips. Brian felt his pulse quicken and, taking courage from the smile, came a bit closer.

"Can I?" he murmured, mouth inches away from the kid, who gave him a small smile and bridged the gap between them, and...

Oh yeah. OK, what did it matter if the guy was awful in bed; he was a surprisingly sensual kisser, and maybe... maybe this might be fun...

They shared a few more passionate kisses before Brian broke off. "So... do you wanna stick around here, or go somewhere else?"

The kid gazed at him a moment, eyes fully dilated and chest heaving. Whatever their respective levels of attractiveness were, right now Brian was definitely holding his attention.

"I live about three blocks away," he murmured into Brian's ear, and Brian's eyebrows went up.

"And you've never come here?"

"Nope. Just moved in."

Brian came back to his mouth for another kiss, then pulled back. He forced himself to wait a few moments before downing the second beer, then pulled the kid back into a kiss. His mouth tasted like beer and heat, his stubble a bit scratchy but not obnoxiously so, and Brian was captivated.

It seemed a long walk to the kid's place - especially with this damn leather jacket which did nice things for Brian's physique but not a lot for his temperature. The kid lived in a nice walk-up, actually, but Brian barely had a chance to look around before the kid was on him again, all eager eyes and hands and lips, and he went with it.

They kissed against the door for a few minutes, quickly getting warm again - though actually the kid was like a furnace, and he hadn't looked like he was wearing anything particularly warm but the fingers he stroked down Brian's cheek weren't freezing cold like Brian's own. It was surprisingly sensual, hungry exploration but not frantic, and Brian realized that his hands were staying above the waist. Huh. Maybe the kid wanted to go slow...ish. A little more handsy than at the bar - and Brian started to wonder just how slow he wanted to go, remembering how he'd seemed put off by Walking Glen at the bar. Granted, Walking Glen had just about been trying to fuck him on the dance floor, but...

Still, this was nice. Really nice. There better be a payoff eventually, but so far Brian was content to go at the kid's pace. And what the hell, the longer this took, the longer Brian would have before he had to go back home.

"Couch?" the kid asked, and they moved to the couch, both taking off their jackets. The kid moved so they were pressed against each other and - OK, that was encouraging. He was panting and hard - yeah, young guys got going pretty quick - but not grabbing and groping.

This was really, really nice, Brian thought headily, as he lost himself in the stuttered breaths and moans and shirts getting loosened and erections rubbing together through their clothing.

The kid groaned and pulled back, murmuring something into Brian's ear, and Brian's brain kinda shorted out a little as he put together the words through a haze of arousal. "Can - can I suck you?"

Oh. "Oh yeah, yeah, of course," he gasped, and the kid gave him a glowing smile and dropped gracefully to his knees.

He really shouldn't be thinking of him as a kid - he was obviously older than he looked. But so much younger than Brian, so much more strength and energy, now making quick work of Brian's belt and fly and oh, oh holy _shit_ swallowing him down and nngg...

Brian dropped his head back against the back of the couch. This was... this was torture, but what way to go. The kid was doing things with his tongue that were probably illegal in about twenty states, and getting into it in a major way, seeming delighted to reduce Brian to wordless moans as he worked his way up and down, and Brian looked down at him...

And he was wonderful. Not the most skilled lover Brian had had, but definitely A for enthusiasm. No coyness, no showing off.

Brian clenched his fists, fighting the urge to grab the kid's hair as he pulled a moan from deep inside him. Jesus, that felt good. He had no gag reflex, either - oh, shit, he was swallowing around Brian and Brian was gonna go off any second and then it would all be over-

"Hey, hey slow down," he gasped. "Oh, shit, stop." The kid pulled off immediately and Brian gasped in dismay. "I mean - no, don't actually _stop_ , just..." he drew in his breath. "Jesus. That was amazing."

"You OK?" asked the kid, looking up at him all worried, and really, nobody had the right to look adorable and concerned while kneeling and still breathing hard from having your dick in his mouth.

"I'm good - I'm a little too good," he said sheepishly, and the kid grinned. "Want me to return the favor?"

The kid smiled up at him and came up to the couch, and they kissed again - which normally Brian didn't much like after a guy had been blowing him, considering where his mouth had been, but-

Oh who was he kidding. There was no "normally" in Brian's sex life. He took what he could get. He hadn't had a regular partner who could get to know his preferences in over a decade. Not likely to get one any time soon either.

He knelt down and worked the kid's fly down, smirking up at him as he took in the flushed length, the drop of pre-cum at the tip, the damp spot on his underwear. He started in, smiling again as the kid gasped out a curse and clenched his eyes shut, gripping the arm of the couch with one hand and and biting the knuckles of his other hand.

"It's OK, you can hold my head," Brian said, pulling off briefly. "Just don't push me down too hard."

The kid put a hand on his head, and Brian was disconcerted to feel him gently stroking his hair, no pressure on him at all. He put trembling fingers to Brian's cheek, small choked whimpers of pleasure escaping him. Brian applied more suction, more force, and the kid gave a soft keen, bucking slightly, and then breathed rapidly through his mouth for a moment before gently cupping Brian's cheek.

"I-" he gasped, tapping Brian lightly on the chin. "Brian?"

Wow, the kid remembered his name. Brian abruptly felt awful that he couldn't say the same. "Yeah?

"I, uh..." Brian licked up the side and the kid choked out a groan. "Oh Christ." He took a deep breath and Brian swallowed him down again. "Um, I'm, I'm gonna - oh, oh God-" the kid stopped Brian's bobbing up and down, firmly holding him in place. "I'm gonna, if you keep that up I'm gonna come," he said quickly. "But, but I still want you to fuck me, and, and I can recover really, really fast-"

"I'm topping?" Brian asked, a little surprised. The kid looked down at him, dazed.

"Uh... yeah? Unless you want to-"

Brian stood up. "OK. No, no that's fine-"

"Do you normally-"

"I can do whatever."

The kid gave him a brilliant smile, pants open and chest heaving. Brian licked his lips. "Can I get some water, though? That bar was pretty dry..."

The kid nodded and pulled up his pants, leading Brian to a small, tidy kitchen - Brian was suddenly embarrassed at the thought of his own messy place - and took a couple of glasses from the cupboard, filling them from the tap.

"Oh - sorry, did you want filtered?" he asked, and Brian shook his head. He glanced at the counter, spotting a rack of mugs drying, two of which were rather garishly red, white and blue with something written on the side-

Steve. _Steve_ , right, Steve. Not Stuart. And Brian hadn't had to ask, either. The kid - Steve! - caught his glance and said, "Yeah, those are from a friend. Not really my taste, but you know, they were a gift."

Brian nodded and downed the water, feeling a small surge of energy, and smiled as the kid stepped forward again, taking Brian's mouth in a long kiss - no beer taste now, his mouth cool from the water, but quickly heating up, and he was so sweet, so into their kisses...

They pulled and stumbled their way into the bedroom, where the quilt was also red, white and blue. Brian raised an eyebrow and Steve paused, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Uh, it was a gift. Same person who gave me the mugs. I haven't really moved in completely yet."

"You're not into garish patriotic motif?"

Steve blushed a little. "Not... not by choice, so much." He turned the bedcover down and Brian stepped closer to him. Steve sank down on the bed, reaching out to Brian and pulling him down with him. They lay back, kissing, hands starting to wander, and it was all a bit more... tame than Brian was used to. A bed, not the wall or a couch or a counter. Kisses and caresses, not near-biting, pulling and grabbing. Kissing that eventually led to Steve on top of him, grinding down on him, sending sparks flying through him and reminding him that he had yet to continue that blow job he'd started in the living room. They removed their shirts and _damn_ , those were some glorious pecs in there, and Brian would have felt self-conscious if Steve hadn't immediately run his hands over his, giving an appreciative hum and smiling at him.

And then he wasn't thinking much of anything at all, as all of their clothing came off and he was faced with the reality of this glorious creature in bed with him - completely unselfconscious, passionate, sensitive as hell.

He moved down Steve's body, pausing to tease his nipples (ooh, nice response there) and navel (meh, didn't seem to do much for him) and then took him down his throat, and the kid keened again, throwing his head back. Brian hadn't been at it very long before Steve stopped him, gasping, "Oh, oh shit, I'm gonna-"

"Go ahead," Brian pulled off long enough to say. Steve clenched his eyes closed and arched his back, coming long and hard into Brian's mouth with a long, heartfelt groan.

He lay back, gasping, and stared up at the ceiling. "Oh my God."

"Yeah," said Brian, grinning wryly and wiping his mouth. Never really been much into swallowing, but it seemed the polite thing to do these days. He found himself being pulled up - Jesus, the kid was strong - and winding up on top of him as Steve reached for the condoms and lube on the side table.

"You sure?" he asked. "You could just suck me if you'd rather-"

Steve nodded, giving him a grin and handing him the lube. "I want to. Trust me, I want to." He lay back and Brian coated his fingers with lube and reached down, not sure whether to stroke him - some guys were pretty sensitive after coming, and it looked like he'd come hard.

Brian locked lips with him, pleased at how Steve drew his arms around him and participated eagerly, despite having come so hard Brian knew if it had been him he would've been down for the count. Ah, the resilience of youth. He drew his hand down between Steve's legs, spreading the lube around and pausing slightly before slipping a finger inside.

"Oh!" Steve drew in his breath, a pained expression crossing his face.

"Is that OK?" Brian asked.

"Yeah, yeah it's fine - um," Steve gazed up at him, a hesitant expression on his face. He bit his lip, looking off to the side, and again looked a lot younger and oh shit - Brian had a sudden flashback to an anonymous pickup of his in grad school, who'd turned out to be seventeen, in a state where the age of consent was eighteen and they weren't exactly gay-friendly-

 _No_ , damn it, Steve wasn't a kid. Nobody with muscles like that was anywhere near any kind of dicey age, no matter how much of a dirty old man Brian felt like right now.

"What's wrong?" asked Brian, moving off of him.

Steve looked back up at him. "Nothing you need to worry about," he said, his voice determined, and pulled Brian back on top of him, taking his hand and drawing it back down between his legs. He caught Brian's mouth in a kiss and encouraged him, spreading his legs and moaning appreciatively as Brian started to stretch him. Brian gasped as Steve reached down to roll the condom on him, adding more lube and cradling Brian's hips with his legs and angling himself up to urge him on.

God, what a beautiful creature, Brian thought vaguely as he sank into him. They paused for a moment and then Steve took his mouth in a surprisingly gentle kiss before lying back and pushing his hips up to Brian.

And it was amazing. They moved together seamlessly, and _Christ_ the kid was tight, and Brian might have had one or two lovers who were more skilled but this guy was just all passion and strength and grace - and holy shit, he was hard again, he hadn't been kidding about the recovery time - and it was perfect and hot and seemed more intimate than most of Brian's soul-less hookups and he was getting so close-

And then Steve moved them so that he was sitting up in Brian's lap, holding him tightly as he dropped his head back, throat bared to Brian, working himself up and down Brian's length, eyes closed, and everything became white-hot as the pleasure spiraled up and out of control and their voices cried out together and-

Oh, oh _God_

Brian slowly floated down from the high, gasping for breath. He looked up at Steve, who was panting and who raised his head and smiled down at Brian, catching his mouth in a kiss, then grimaced down at their stomachs, covered with his release.

"I've got a hand towel on the side table," he said, reaching for it.

"Confident, weren't you?" said Brian wryly. It had been some time since he'd been that sure. "Do you ever strike out?" he asked as they carefully disengaged.

Steve shrugged. "Not yet."

Brian smirked at the hand towel - stars and stripes motif again - as Steve wiped them both off. "Same friend?"

"It was a welcome back present. I just came back to New York," said Steve. "He thinks he's a lot funnier than he really is." He tossed the towel back onto the side table and lay back on the bed. "I'm really gonna have to change all of this. I've had other priorities lately, but that's gotta be one of the main ones."

"At least it all matches."

"Yeah. I took art for a while, though, and... all of this makes my eyes bleed. I think that's part of why my friend does this."

"Pretty generous, though," Brian noted.

Steve smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, he really is," he said fondly.

Brian's eyebrows went up at the affectionate tone in Steve's voice. "Friend? Or, uh, _friend_?"

Steve looked at him, puzzled, then his brow cleared and he burst out laughing. "Oh, no. Him? No, no no no. He's as straight as you can be." He chuckled some more and shook his head. "No, not _that_ kind of friend at all."

Brian glanced down at himself, starting to flag a little, and gripped the base of the condom. "Can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure, it's down the right."

Brian got rid of the condom and used the facilities, snickering as he looked around. More red white and blue hand towels _and_ bath towels - and a red white and blue toothbrush too - clashing with the room's background colors of white and mint-green. The God Bless America theme really was pretty over-the-top.

Hang on.

He suddenly looked around the washroom, taking in the decor, the just-moved-in air of the whole apartment. The fact that the kid had said he was newly back in town. Back in New York, with a generous, extremely hetero friend with a questionable sense of humor who could afford to decorate his place as a joke.

He looked like Johnny Storm. But he hadn't always. He wasn't used to looking like a wet dream come to life; part of him still seemed used to being overlooked. He'd served in Europe and worked in "security."

Brian walked back to the bedroom, suspicion growing. He paused at the door, taking in the kid's relaxed pose as he lay back on the bed, all sleek lines and apple-pie wholesomeness contrasting with his just-been-fucked flush.

Shut up, shut up, shut up, said his internal Luke-voice...

"Your last name's not Rogers, is it?" Brian blurted.

The kid's - Steve's - eyes widened. He slowly sat up, staring at Brian warily.

"Holy shit," said Brian, and sat down on the bed heavily, vaguely aware that he was gaping. What the holy fuck...

Steve suddenly chuckled and drew a hand through his hair, seeming amused at Brian's total shock.

"Does anybody know?" asked Brian.

"My last name?" Steve asked dryly. "A few people, yeah."

Brian rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. Does anybody know you're gay?"

"A lotta people."

Brian blinked. "OK, I'm really not up on pop culture. Did you, like, come out and I totally missed it?"

Steve laughed. "No. God no. All the Avengers know, and a bunch of other people who know me. But I haven't officially come out."

"If you're trying to stay in the closet you're doing a hell of a job," said Brian. And Jesus, he was having this conversation with _Captain America_ while they were both naked, with Brian's dick still pleasantly sore from where it had been inside Steve's mouth and ass. Brian's life had never been more bizarre than this exact moment. "You know it's not like it was in your time, right? If you're afraid you're gonna-"

"I'm not real concerned about the closet," said Steve. "When I first went out I wore glasses and I used my middle name but... I don't really care now."

"Really? Then why haven't you come out?"

Steve drew his knees up and clasped his arms around them. "A lotta reasons. I've thought about it a lot."

"You've thought about it. You've been defrosted for, what, five years?"

"Almost three," said Steve.

"And you've thought about coming out. How nice for you." Brian was abruptly pissed off, his shock slowly turning into anger. "Do you have any idea how much easier it would be for kids today if somebody like you came out?" he asked, and had to restrain himself from raising his voice. This was just a no-longer-anonymous pickup, he could hear Luke's voice reminding him; Brian had no right to judge him, he hadn't done anything wrong, it was none of Brian's business how other people chose to live their lives- "You know, nobody gives a shit if their high school teacher or some middle-aged software engineer lives out and proud," he said, unable to hold back. "If you came out-"

"Don't knock high school teachers and software engineers," Steve interrupted mildly. "Do you have any idea how much easier my life would've been if I'd known even one normal person who liked men the way I did when I was growing up? I was raised by priests and nuns. Don't talk to me about-"

"I dunno if you've heard the news, but plenty of priests like-"

"I said _men_ , not little boys," said Steve impatiently. "We knew about _that_ when I was growing up. Trust me, it didn't help."

"You could make a difference," Brian insisted.

"I know," said Steve. He sat back. "Believe me, I know. I've thought about it."

"Are you embarrassed? Are you afraid that-"

"No, it's not that. I just... there were reasons why I couldn't, yet. I talked about it with the other Avengers, we discussed it, but the timing just wasn't right, before."

"And it's right, now?" Brian shot back. "Because you're gonna get outed if you keep doing what you're doing. You know somebody could upload a picture of you making out with some guy at a pickup joint, right?"

"I know. And somebody I slept with could go to the papers. I know."

"Can I ask how many times you've done this?"

"Six," said Steve, and Brian gave a low whistle. Steve gazed at him steadily. "I've thought about that too. Obviously I'd rather not come out like _that_ , but... if anybody did go to the papers, I'd deal with it. I don't think anybody's recognized me till now, but if they do, I won't deny anything."

Brian blinked. "Christ, dude, my bosses knows I'm gay but I'm a _programmer_. I wanna get a promotion, not have my face splashed all over the tabloids. There is not enough money in the world for me to tell anyone about this."

Steve nodded cautiously. "Thank you."

Damn it, Brian couldn't do this while sitting naked on Captain America's star spangled bed. Steve didn't seem to mind his own nudity, but then Steve looked like a God.

"So you're gay," said Brian, his irrational anger dying down. He tugged a corner of the blanket over himself. "Wow." He blinked. "Have you always been?"

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't date girls before?"

"I never dated anyone before. Just... just the guy I was with."

"Never been with a girl?"

"Once."

"When?"

"About a week ago."

"Shit," said Brian. "You picked up a girl?"

"Yeah."

"What was that like? I haven't been with a girl since high school."

"Yeah, it was nice, just... not for me."

"What? Couldn't get it up?"

"I could get it up," Steve said, laughing. "I just... it's funny, I spent so much time being afraid of girls when I was a kid. Hoping I could find one that made me feel like... well, like he did. And would look at me twice."

"What happened?"

"She was nice, I just..." he broke off, embarrassed. "I realized that all I really wanted to do was draw her," he muttered. "There she was, she was beautiful, she was into it, but I was... just wishing I had my sketchpad."

Brian threw back his head and laughed.

"Yeah, if I had any doubts..." Steve said ruefully.

"Damn, this is gonna be huge if you ever do come out." He shook his head. "Wow. I really thought you were all-American apple pie and duty to country and all that."

"I do my duty to my country," Steve said mildly. "No duty says I gotta get married or be a monk."

"You're a role model to little kids," Brian pointed out.

"Yeah."

"What if they found out you were hooking up with strangers?"

Steve shrugged. "It wouldn't be great."

"So why do it?"

"Why do you do it?" Steve shot back.

"I don't have an action figure."

"That's no reason." Steve gazed at him thoughtfully. "You sure didn't seem to like it much."

Brian barked a startled laugh. "Are you kidding me? What part of what just happened looked like I didn't like it?"

"No, the sex was fine," said Steve. "But you didn't look real happy at that bar." His lip curled slightly. "A lotta guys... they look like they love the thrill of the chase. You looked like you were just going through the motions."

Brian bristled. "What about you? Mr. 'You look like you're out of place and so am I'?"

Steve looked away. "I don't much like the thrill of the chase either."

"So why do it?"

"Maybe the ends justify the means," he said bitterly. "After all, who doesn't wanna fuck?"

" _You_ ," said Brian. "You look like you want a nice wife to go home to."

Steve grinned mirthlessly. "Being gay puts the kibosh on that, doesn't it?"

"A nice husband, then. The love of your life."

"That's the uniform, not me," said Steve. "That's seventy years of comic books and public relations spin I had nothing to do with."

"Not from what I've heard. I'm not really up on pop culture but I had the impression that you lived up to your rep in every way."

"Obviously not."

"You're telling me the guy who everyone - including _Tony Stark_ \- calls the real deal really wants to hop in and out of bed with guys he's just met? That's your plan for your life?"

Steve looked away. "You can't always get what you want," he said, his voice hollow.

"You said you had a boyfriend."

"It didn't work out."

"And you're trying to get over him?" Brian waited, but Steve didn't react. "This won't get you over him, you know. You'll just feel like a slut and a jerk. Hollow."

"Aren't you the voice of experience."

"I'm a hell of a lot older than you are."

"I'm ninety-five," Steve shot back. He took a deep breath. "Look, Brian... don't try to get into my head and I won't try to get into yours, OK?"

"Why do you do it?" Brian insisted.

"I'll answer you if you answer me."

"Fine," snapped Brian. "I do it because I'm forty-five fucking years old and I'm married to my job, OK? Because I'm no fucking good at anything but my job, and I always knew I'd never have the dog and the house and the kids but I didn't want it - and that was fine when I was younger and I could get laid whenever I wanted to, but it's not so great any more now that I've got a good career but fuck-all else except a few pathetic two-month-long failed relationships about a hundred years ago, and I've been in love with my best friend for years and I always thought we didn't get together because we were both party boys, but now he's practically got a husband and it's not me, so I keep going out there and mostly getting shot down because I'm too much of a loser to even try anything else. Happy? Over to you, Captain."

Steve blinked at him, then gave a rueful chuckle. "I should know better than to do that. Be careful what you ask for; you just might get it."

"So explain your own slut routine. Do you like it?"

Steve glared at him. "Well, as it happens, I had the real thing."

"What? True lifelong love?" asked Brian sardonically.

"Yeah," Steve said flatly. "And trust me, you don't wanna live with what it feels like when you lose it."

"You're trying to get over him?"

"I'm trying not to cry myself to sleep over him every single night, yeah," Steve said evenly. "I have it on good authority that flawed coping mechanisms like acting out sexually are par for the course for people who've gone through emotional trauma. And following a failed relationship or sexual trauma a survivor may feel unworthy of real love and intimacy, and seek out encounters that reinforce the message of unworthiness as a way of self-punishment. Or seek out encounters as a way of exerting control over an area of their life in which they previously lacked control. There's also stuff about protecting the ego against loss following a failure of intimacy by rejecting emotional closeness before it can be snatched away." He paused and grimaced. "I may have gotten some of the pop psychology terms mixed up, sorry. A lot of it sounds like bullshit to me."

Brian blinked. "Shit, man. What happened?"

"I spend enough time talking about what happened at a shrink's office, thanks," said Steve, looking away. "I'd rather fight the Chitauri again than keep talking about it. I do this," he gestured between them, "to forget."

Brian thought for a moment. "I... I guess I do too."

"I wonder if everybody does."

"I don't think so. I know a lot of guys who find it fun. It's thrilling. It's a game. Like a sport."

"Great sport," Steve said bitterly. "Using other people."

"Doesn't have to be. If everyone knows what they're doing and it's all up-front, what's wrong with it?"

"I keep being told that."

"Do any of the Avengers know what you're doing?"

"One. Who says the same thing you do, actually. That it's not a big deal, nobody's getting hurt. Nobody's getting used - or if they are, they're consenting to it so it's OK."

"He's got a point."

Steve looked away. "Still doesn't seem right." He sighed. "I had a... a friend. Who used to do the same thing to dames. Women. I used to get mad at him for that; damn, if he could see me now..."

Brian nodded. "Do you want me to go?" he asked quietly.

Steve swallowed. "Not really. You can if you want."

And suddenly the thought of someone taking this sweet, sensitive kid and thinking of him as an anonymous conquest, a nice ass to get off in, or a notch on a bedpost in the great past-time of competitive sport-fucking, was depressing.

Especially since Brian had been seeing him the exact same way less than two hours ago. He could only imagine what guys like Walking Glen had done with him; hard fucks against walls, dirty talk - who knew what he'd encountered.

Brian brought himself up short. Let's not get carried away here; Steve himself had been acting the same way, using guys like Brian like novocain to dull whatever pain he was going through right now. Using was using; didn't matter what you used someone for.

"How about... how about I stay," he said slowly. "How about I stay and we pretend this isn't a random pickup."

Steve stared at him.

"Let's pretend this is what we both want, OK?" said Brian. "That we're with who we want to be with." Not that Steve looked all that much like Luke, but Brian had a good imagination. "You think of me as whoever it is you're thinking of and-"

Steve shook his head. "That wouldn't help. I want... I wanna forget him." His voice roughened on the last word and he looked down.

"OK, then how about we just pretend that we _do_ know each other?" Brian said, feeling his way through cautiously. "That we've known each other a long time. That this isn't a quick fuck. That it means something."

Steve chuckled tiredly. "You think it's that easy? Just pretend?"

"Hey, I didn't spend all those years playing D D without learning a little bit about role playing," said Brian. He rolled his eyes at himself. "Never mind, there's no way you caught that reference; I'm a giant geek. Nobody even watches the X-Files any more."

"The X-Files? That's on my list." Brian raised his eyebrows. "Stuff I should look up to understand all the history and pop culture I missed," Steve explained.

Brian laughed. Captain America had a list. Figured. "Put D D on your list too while you're at it," he said. He hesitated, then slowly leaned closer to him and kissed him. Steve reached for him, cupping his cheek, leaning into the kiss. Their lips caressed and Brian closed his eyes and tried to imagine what it would be like to be doing this with a friend, with a lover, with someone whose body he knew well, someone whose life was part of his, who would still be there after the sex was done and who would joke with him and fight with him and...

They lay down again, drawing closer, and pressed together. Brian looked down, startled.

"Seriously? Already?"

"Really, really short recovery time," said Steve wryly. "It's not always such a great thing. We don't have to do anything heavy." He swallowed. "Do you mind staying the night?"

"I have a meeting in the morning," said Brian. "But yeah. I'd love to."

And they proceeded to get to know each other, far more than Brian had done with any lover he'd taken in the last ten years or so. Exploring, touching, experimenting. Brian teaching Steve what he'd learned from twenty years in other men's beds, delighting in his gasps and moans.

They'd eventually fallen asleep together - damn, first time he'd actually fallen asleep in a lover's bed since... when? And Brian wished it was real, but maybe it was enough to be able to pretend that it was. He was going to have these images in his memory forever, of this beautiful man falling apart under his lips and fingers, of pushing into him again, of holding him close like he was precious, of being treated with kindness and gentleness, like he was precious and worthy too.

He'd woken up in the morning, disoriented to find himself not in his own bed. He'd blinked at the ceiling, lost, then glanced around as the God Bless America color scheme jogged his memory. Checking the time, he'd realized he was going to be late to his meeting if he didn't hurry; dressed and gone into the living room, and met a friend of Steve's, who looked vaguely familiar but who introduced herself as Connie - and God damn, he'd realized later that night, he'd met the _Black Widow_ and not even recognized her, he was such an idiot.

Steve had walked him to the front door. "I'm... not sure how to thank you," he'd said softly. "For last night."

"Yeah. You too," said Brian.

"I, uh, I wasn't doing real good before meeting you," Steve said. "Glad I did, though." Brian smiled at him, nodding. Steve cleared his throat. "I really appreciated you staying the night. It was... I know it wasn't real, but it was... it was nice to pretend. And, uh..." He glanced away. "I probably said some stuff I shouldn't have. I'm not, uh, really in the best place right now. You didn't deserve to have me dump my problems on you."

Brian shook his head. "Hey, considering where you found me, and some of what I said... it wasn't all one-way, you know?"

"Fair enough," said Steve.

They'd gazed at each other awkwardly for a moment. It was so bizarre - he'd been balls-deep in this man last night, had had his tongue wrapped around his dick and vice versa, made him sweat and moan and scream, slept beside him, their scents mingling and their limbs tangled together... but they were strangers. What were they supposed to do? Shake hands? Kiss?

Steve made the decision for him. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Brian and they'd held each other close for a moment. Then Steve pulled back and kissed him, their lips meeting gently in gratitude and affection while Steve's friend looked discreetly away.

"Thanks," Steve had said again.

"You take care of yourself," said Brian.

"I will. You too."

"I will," said Brian.

* * *

"Holy fucking shit," Josh said, coming into the room. "Babe, can you believe it?"

Brian shook his head, still scanning down the articles on his screen. Steve had apparently been photographed yesterday by some gossip site and broken the internet. And today he was at some hearing about the Winter Soldier...

Brian clicked on a video link from the hearing.

"Captain Rogers, were you and Sergeant Barnes intimate?"

There was a pause on the video.

"Yes," Steve said, and there was an audible background murmur.

"Since when?"

"Since we were teenagers."

Jesus. Bucky Barnes. Brian had read up on him afterward and wondered, of course - there was an entire fan-base devoted to that idea that they'd been lovers, he'd discovered - but he'd dismissed it. They were described as brothers. And Barnes was a famous womanizer.

"This is gonna be so fucking huge," Josh commented. "He's gay. He's fucking _gay_. And it's like it's nothing to him. You'd think someone that uptight would be running away from it, wouldn't you?"

"Not really," said Brian. He clicked on another video.

"Yes, Bucky and I were in a relationship," Steve was saying, looked like at the same hearing. "And yes, we both hid our orientation from the Army in order to defend our country. I still feel that we were right, and I would do it again in a second."

"Trust Captain America to make being gay seem like the most patriotic thing ever," said Josh.

Brian laughed and pulled Josh down onto the chair with him.

"When did all of this happen?" he asked.

"Apparently there were pictures yesterday," said Josh. "And then today all hell broke loose when some reporter asked him about it. He's dating somebody. The guy he was pictured with? They're a thing, maybe even serious. He even said so on camera when he was asked about whether he was still sleeping with Bucky. Haven't seen that clip yet."

"Wow." Brian shook his head. He gripped Josh a little closer.

And he suddenly wondered if their night together had been the last night out for Steve too. If Steve had also walked away from that night realizing that the status quo wasn't good enough for him. That he had to let go of his past, like Brian had let go of Luke. Or that he could at least try for something different than an anonymous dick to scratch an itch or numb the pain. Something more.

Josh pressed a kiss to his forehead and started to sit up. "OK, babe. Sorry to interrupt. I'll let you go - just wanted to let you know what was going on in the outside world while we were both working our assess off."

Brian laughed. "Well, thanks. That was... that was something." He looked up at Josh. "Hey, do you wanna take a break?"

"Baby, don't worry about it," said Josh, giving him a peck on the lips. "I know you've got that rollout on Thursday, I just wanted to-"

"No, that's fine," said Brian. "I was hitting a roadblock anyway." He checked his watch. "Hey, you know what? Let's go out to dinner. On me."

Josh's eyebrows went up. "What's the occasion?"

"Uh... red-white-and-blue turning into a rainbow?"

Josh laughed. "Sounds good to me. I'll see you in a minute, lemme just fire off one more email." He got up off Brian's lap and went back to the living room.

Brian looked at Steve, talking to a reporter.

Bucky Barnes. _That_ was the lost love of Steve's life. The guy who'd been turned into a mindless killing machine, the one Steve had acknowledged was way too dangerous to let out in public, possibly ever. The one he'd been trying to forget with half a dozen other men, including Brian.

Shit. No wonder the guy was messed up.

But he'd found a way to go on with his life anyway.

Brian toasted the screen. _Good for you, Steve. Good luck to you. And thanks._

He turned off the screen and left the room.


End file.
